The Not-So-Great Outdoors
by Eileen
Summary: Dragged along on a weekend camping trip by his father and brother, Dexter tries to make the best of it. But there's no cable, Freakazoid won't leave him alone, and . . . what's that scary howling in the distance? Happy summer, everyone!
1. Chapter 1

_What am I doing out here in the woods?_

As family vacations went, this ranked even below "family road trip hijacked by Longhorn". Dexter Douglas had been yanked away from his beloved computer and driven out into the middle of nowhere by his father, who was determined to "make a man out of him," whatever that meant. Right now, it seemed to involve lifting and carrying a lot of firewood.

"Why do we need so much wood?" he asked his dad. "It's ninety degrees out!"

"To keep the bears away!" his dad answered brightly.

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Don't worry, they only attack if provoked. No, wait, that's bees. Well, where there's bees, there's honey, and where there's honey, you find bears."

"Maybe the bees will keep the bears away," Dexter grumbled, and dropped his armload of wood near the campsite.

"Remember to keep the wood dry or it won't light!"

"Yeah, no problem there. Everything's dry. It hasn't rained in a month. Are you sure it's okay to have campfires here?"

"Listen, twerp, just do what you're told!" Dexter's big brother Duncan ordered him.

"Hey, how come you're not lifting or carrying anything?"

"Cause I'm setting up the tent! It's harder than it looks."

The tent looked fairly sturdy (if a bit lopsided at the moment), but that was not the concern. It was a two-man tent. Since there were three of them, that meant someone would have to sleep out in the open.

_Three guesses who that someone is, _Dexter thought bitterly. He was just glad that he had packed lots of insect repellent; they were out in swarms, and they all seemed to be swarming around **him**, hovering around him but unable to touch his skin. It was actually worse than being bitten. The annoyance factor was off the charts.

_If this is what builds character, I'll try and get by without any, thank you. _He set down another load of wood and went back for the last of the huge pile they had bought by the side of the road. It seemed stupid to have to buy firewood when they were surrounded by trees, but Dad had said something about the woods being a protected reserve.

"Does that mean we'll be protected from the bears?" Dexter had asked.

Dad had just laughed. "No, but if they attack us, we can't hurt them!"

"Great." _I did not sign up to be bear chow!_

The sun was going down now. Soon it would be getting dark, which meant that the bugs would be out in force, looking to make a meal of an unsuspecting Dexter. He sprayed himself again, from head to toe, just to make extra sure, and rejoined the others at the campsite to watch them struggle with making fire.

"I went to Scout Camp for eight years," Dad was saying, "and one of the first things they taught us was how to make fire by rubbing two sticks together. Give me a minute . . ."

"Dad—" Dexter interjected.

"Not now, son! Maybe if I rub them the other way—"

"Dad, look, I—"

"You just stand back and let a seasoned woodsman handle this! Almost got it . . ."

"Maybe you need bigger sticks," Duncan suggested.

"I have matches!" Dexter shouted.

They both turned to look at him.

"I . . . I thought we might need them," he said. "They're waterproof, too. Can we please try them now?"

"I've almost got this—"

"Gimme that!" Duncan grabbed the matches right out of Dexter's hand, opened the box, shook one out, and struck it on the side of the box. He then dropped it onto the pile of wood, which began to smoke. A moment later, flames licked up the sides of the pile, yellow and orange and kinda pretty, really.

"Good job, son!" Dad slapped Duncan on the back. "Dex, get the food out."

"But—but I . . . oh, never mind!" It was pointless to try and defend himself, because they wouldn't listen. Dexter trudged over to the car and unpacked the cooler.

"Dumbest idea ever," he muttered, in between hauling out the weenies and the marshmallows. "These woods don't even have cable! Why's he have to make a man out of me, anyway? What does that even mean?"

**Aw, Dexxie, you're being too negative!**

And there was his **other **reason for not wanting to be stuck out in the woods with his father and brother, both of whom already thought he was nuts for talking to himself all the time. At least at home Dexter could pretend he was talking on the phone; out here, he had no excuse.

Besides, what happened if there was some emergency in the city, and he didn't find out about it until it was too late? Superheroes didn't get vacations!

**Yoo hoo! Dexter! Are you there, little buddy?**

_Not now, Freakazoid. I'm busy._

**Where are we? Let me put the blinds up and—wow! We're in the woods!**

_Don't remind me. Not happy to be here. _He stacked the armful of comestibles and slogged his way back to the fire.

"What'd you do, get lost?" Duncan taunted him. Dexter chose to ignore him, laying the food down on the blanket and staying far back from the flames.

"Now, don't forget," Dad said, "hang the extra food up in a tree, so the bears don't get it."

"No," said Dexter, "they'll just eat **us**."

"Not if we keep the fire going. One of us will have to stay up and make sure it doesn't go out."

Dexter sighed deeply. "I can't sleep out here anyway. Too many weird noises."

"Those are crickets!"

There was a distant, bloodcurdling howl that sounded like a background effect from a monster movie. "Th-that wasn't crickets!" He started to run for the car, but Duncan grabbed him by the collar and hauled him back.

"Don't be a baby! It won't hurt you! You're with me!" He flexed his muscles and grinned. "I'll punch that whatever-it-is right in the snout!"

"Yeah . . . you do that." Dexter reluctantly sat down in the dirt (no showers out here, either—how were any of them going to **smell **at the end of this weekend?) and watched while Dad sharpened the ends of long sticks, to stick the food on.

**Aaaaah . . . the great outdoors! Sleeping out in the open . . . cooking over an open fire . . . I love it! Don't you love it?**

_How do I put this . . . NO!_

**You're not giving it a chance! This is the way we were meant to live! This is PRIMAL! **

_No, thanks. I prefer the great Indoors, thank you. No bugs, no creepy howling things, and plenty of hot and cold running water._

**Killjoy.**

"Dexter, you're being awfully quiet," Dad remarked. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Can we go home now?"

Dad just laughed at that. "But we just got here! We've got the whole weekend to soak up the wonderful atmosphere and enjoy the peace and quiet."

The howl came again, although it seemed at least to be moving **away **from them, so that was some small consolation.

**We should tell ghost stories! Ooh! I know a great one! **

_Not now, Freak!_

**But if we're gonna do this, we should do it properly!**

"I don't wanna do this!"

It was a moment before Dexter realized he had spoken aloud. "Um, I mean . . ." he tried to recover, but couldn't think of any explanation. Now he'd done it. Now he'd probably be sent home—wait a minute, that wasn't such a bad thing! But Dad might be mad at him for having to drive him all the way home, and then come all the way back.

"I'm sorry," he said weakly.

But surprisingly, Dad wasn't mad at all. "Oh, you're just not giving it a chance, Dex! Wait till we hit that lake! That beautiful, clear water . . . you like to swim, don't you?"

"Yeah." He did like the water. He could swim well enough to stay afloat, but usually, most of his time in the water was spent trying to escape his brother's "playful" attempts to hold his head under the surface. He'd have to find something to distract the big lug . . . too bad there weren't any girls out here.

**No girls?! You mean there's not a girls' camp conveniently located across the easily-swim-across-able lake? What kind of camping trip is this, anyway?**

_Would you be quiet? Try to just watch, and not make so many comments!_

**What fun is that? You need to go do something that's worth watching!**

_Can I do it tomorrow? It's late, and it's dark, and these woods are spooky._

**Yeah, I guess they are a little spooky. Just remember: whatever you do, don't say his name!**

_Whose name?_

**Ca—oh, you almost got me! You know, the spooky guy whose name you can't say!**

_Don't say his name. Got it._

The weenies were done. Dexter had a hard time getting his off the stick, and then he almost dropped it into the fire, but he saved enough to eat. The marshmallows were good, too, charred crispy on the outside and soft and chewy on the inside. They literally melted in his mouth.

There were bottles of root beer that they had to open with a real bottle opener, something Dexter had never done. All the drinks he had had up till now had twist caps. "Why do we have the old-fashioned kind?" he asked.

"Because it's tradition!" Dad insisted. "Remember to put your bottles in the bag so we can take them home. Don't leave any trash in the woods!"

"I thought we were living off the land," said Duncan.

"**Mostly **living off the land. We can scrounge for nuts and berries tomorrow. Tonight, we need real protein!"

_I wouldn't call this real,_ Dexter thought, eyeing the lump of meat in his hand. "How will we know what's safe to eat and what isn't?"

"That's what the Field Guide is for!" Dad patted his pocket, which bulged squarely. "Always keep your Field Guide handy! That's what they taught me in Scouts! Now finish your dinner, and we'll sing campfire songs!"

_Oh, joy._

**Don't fret, Dexter! I know great songs! I'll teach them to you!**

_Gee, thanks._

**Well, don't sound all enthused about it or anything. Just trying to help.**

_Sorry. Don't want to be here, remember?_

**You just need to relax! Lighten up a bit! Smell that wonderful air!**

Dexter took a deep sniff, but all he could smell was campfire smoke and burnt marshmallow. _Yeah, I'm not getting it._

**You will! Now you've got first watch, right?**

_Unfortunately._

**That's great! Just after sunset is when the forest really comes alive!**

_Not helping there, Freak. I don't WANT it to come alive! Things in the forest that are alive want to eat me! _He slapped at a mosquito that had gotten past the repellent, or maybe it was starting to wear off. _See?_

**You're thinking too negatively! Wait till we're alone out here, and I'll show you how nice it is to be in the great outdoors! Give me a chance?**

After a moment, Dexter reluctantly agreed. At least he had **someone **who understood him. He still wished he had a modem, though. Or an internet connection. Or freaking electricity, for Grog's sake!

_Grog?_

**Never mind who Grog is! We're here to have FUN! Let's go catch tadpoles and put them in your brother's shorts!**

_NO!_ Dexter mentally shouted, though he secretly thought it sounded like a good idea. But knowing him, he'd get caught, and then get pounded. It was his life's goal to avoid getting pounded by anyone; he preferred to do the pounding, but only when absolutely necessary.

Dexter had the uncomfortable feeling that by the end of this weekend in Hell, some degree of pounding would become necessary. He wondered if he'd get to watch.

"Okay," Dad announced, "let's all sing songs!"

"Can we do 'I Like Big Butts'?" asked Duncan.

"Ha, ha, ha! No, Duncan! No big butts here! Let's try a round! I'll start it off, and then you join in, one at a time! Ready? Row, row, row your boat . . ."

**Oh, this is the lamest campfire song EVER!** Freakazoid complained. **We can do better than that!**

Duncan joined in on the second line, but when it was Dexter's turn, he opened his mouth, and what came out was "It's been one week since you looked at me, cocked your head to the side, and said 'I'm angry' . . ."

Dad and Duncan stopped singing and looked at him. It wasn't until the line that began "Yesterday" that Dexter realized what was going on, and closed his mouth firmly.

"Um," he said, "I just thought I'd . . . you know, switch it up a bit. Try something new?"

"I think we should stick to the classics," Dad said, after a long pause. "Songs we all know. Who's up for 'On Top of Old Smokey'?"

Dexter sighed and gave in. It was no use. At least he'd tried.

**Aw, don't be so down, Dexxie! Wait till they go to bed, and we'll have some fun, just you and me! What do you say to that?**

_I . . . I guess._

**You GUESS? What have I told you? You've got to be more decisive! Don't GUESS, KNOW! Be more sure of yourself! Now, I want your next sentence to start with "I know." Can you do that?**

_Okay._

**What was that?**

_I mean, I know I can!_

**That's more like it! Now, are we gonna have a good time this weekend?**

_I know . . . it's gonna be a disaster._

**Aw, Dex! What happened to being sure of yourself? You were doing so well!**

_I am sure of myself! I'm sure it's gonna be a disaster!_

**You're thinking too negatively! Try to keep your mind on the positive! We're out here, in the open, no pollution, no crowds, connecting with Nature! Isn't it wonderful?**

_Maybe you're right. I haven't given it a chance yet. I'll just sit back and—_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Dexter screamed as some big, flapping thing landed on his head, and then took off again. "What was that?" he gasped. "A bat? A bird? A Godzilla-sized mosquito?"

"Relax, Dex!" his father admonished him. "It was just a moth!"

"A . . . a moth?"

"Ha ha ha ha!" Duncan chortled. "You thought it was a bat!"

"It might have been! I couldn't see it clearly cause it was ON MY HEAD!"

"Now, Dexter," said Dad, "you just need to calm down a bit. It's gone now, whatever it was. Don't be so jumpy!"

From a distance came another howl, faint but just barely audible. Dexter jumped up and ran for the car again, but it was locked. "I need the keys!"

"For what? Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere! I'd just feel safer if there was a wall of metal and glass between me and that . . . whatever it is!"

"Oh, Dexter! That animal is miles away from us! Sound carries a long distance out in the woods, you know. Anyway, it's too far away for you to worry about. Come back here and take care of the fire. We're going to bed."

"But it's only eight-thirty!" Duncan protested.

Dad said, "We have to get up early, to go fishing. You want to go fishing, don't you, Dunc?"

"Oh, yeah. Why do we have to get up so early?"

"Because, that's when the fish get up! We want to get there before they've had their coffee!" He laughed at his own lame joke, but no one else did.

"Dexter, you have a watch, right?"

"Yeah." It was a cheap digital piece of junk, but at least it kept something fairly close to correct time.

"Wake me in four hours, and I'll take over for you. And remember to keep that fire going! The matches are over here."

"Yeah, Dad, I got it. Good night. Don't let the scary wolves bite."

"Very funny." Dad and Duncan shuffled off to the tent, leaving Dexter alone by the fire.

Alone.

Except . . . not really.

**Whew! I thought we'd never get rid of those two! So now whaddya wanna do?**

_Is sitting here feeling sorry for myself an option?_

**Don't be silly! You're still being negative! You need to find the positive in all this!**

_Positive? I'm sitting alone in the dark woods full of bears and wolves and who knows what else, and this fire is the only thing standing between me and certain death! What's positive about that?_

**EVERYTHING! You just don't get it! The trees . . . the crisp mountain air . . . the beautiful, clear water . . . I love camping!**

_Fine. We'll switch. __**You**__ can stay here and get eaten alive by bugs and possibly bears, and I'll stay on the inside where it's safe. Deal?_

There were small popping sounds as insects flew into the fire, but other than that, all was silence. And in the silence, Dexter heard the chirp of crickets, the hoot of an owl . . . and that was it. The scary howling beast had moved on, it seemed.

**See, Dex? Nothing to worry about! **

_Where'd you go?_

**Just being quiet and listening to the sounds of nature. Listen!**

There was a long ululation that sounded like someone swallowing a kazoo. _What the heck is that?_

**That is the rare brown-throated night warbler!**

_Is it dangerous?_

**Only if you're a worm. Keep watching—maybe we'll see it in flight! They're beautiful on the wing!**

_How can we see anything? It's pitch dark out here! Except for right near the fire here._

**We'll see it if it flies directly overhead. Keep watching.**

Dexter poked the fire when it looked like it was starting to burn down. He wondered if he should add some more wood.

**Now! NOW! Look straight up NOW!**

Almost involuntarily, Dexter's head went back. There was a dark flapping shape that passed over his head. He could just make out white-tipped wings and a long neck, and then it was gone.

**Wasn't that something? You don't see that every day!**

_No_, Dexter had to admit. _You don't. Where's it going?_

**Probably back to its nest. They nest right by the water, so you may see it tomorrow, when you go fishing or swimming or just throwing stones into the lake. Just don't hit any wildlife!**

_I won't. If they don't hit me first._

**Most things in the woods are more scared of you than you are of them! Anyway, just keep your distance, and you'll be fine. You know what poison ivy looks like, right?**

_Yeah._

**Good! Can we go get some and stuff it in Duncan's sleeping bag?**

Dexter sighed mentally. Sometimes Freakazoid was all over the place, and other times he had a one-track mind. _No, we can't! I know you don't like him, but I have to live with him, and if I keep pranking him all weekend, when we get home, he'll make my life a living hell! _

**Why do you let him? Tell him to shove off once or twice, and follow it up with a good butt-whooping! I'll do it if you don't want to!**

_Really, Freak, please don't._

**I'm just looking out for you, buddy. I hate the way that big jerk pushes you around! You need to start pushing him back!**

_I __**can't!**_

**Yes, you can! I'll help you!**

_Can we talk about this some other time? I want to listen to some music. _At least Dad had let him bring his CD player. He slipped on his headphones and pressed PLAY.

Sometime later, he realized he was listening to nothing but static and sat up with a start. The CD had ended; he removed it and swapped it for another. Then he happened to glance at the fire.

It was nearly out.

"Oh, no!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hnh . . . what? What's going—THE FIRE! We've got to restart it right away!**

_I know, I know! Where are those matches?_

**I can't see anything! Where's the flashlight?**

_I think I left it in the car._

**Great! Where's the car? It's back that way, isn't it?**

_No, I think it's the other way!_

**I know where it is! This way! **

Dexter felt something like a low-level electric charge in the small of his back, prompting him to stand up and move forward. He resisted, though, halting in his tracks before he could get more than a few feet from the fire. And then he remembered something.

_My watch has a backlight! I could use that to look for the matches!_

**All right, Dex! See, you're so smart!**

The glow from the backlight was faint, but in the dark woods, it was enough to see a few feet in front of him. Dexter was able to find the matches with no problem. He brought over more wood, too, and a few wadded-up newspaper pages to use as kindling.

**There. See? You can survive out here!**

_The night's not over yet, Freak. I've still got . . . _He checked his watch in the dark. _Two and a half hours before I have to go wake up Dad. _

**Plenty of time for us to sit and talk! I mean, if you want to talk. Or, you could just go back to your music . . .**

_I can do both. I can multi-task._

**And they call ME the superhero! You're super and you just don't know it, Dexxie!**

_I am?_

**Of course you are! I may have super strength and speed like lightning, but you . . . you've got the brains! What a team we make, huh?**

_Yeah, I guess so. _

Dexter put another CD in his player and sat back. _You know, actually, you're right. It is kinda pretty out here. _

**Wait till sunrise! Oh, I hope we're up to see it! **

_We will be. Dad wants to take us fishing at five a. m._

**You're kidding, right?**

_That's what he said._

**Five a. m. should be illegal! It's way, way, WAY too early for anyone to be up!**

_I know! But he insists that that's the time we need to hit the lake, so that's what time I need to be up._

**But you haven't been to bed yet! Hey, how come Skunk-an doesn't have to take a watch? Just you and your dad!**

_I don't know. At least I get to get some sleep. I mean, five hours is better than nothing, right?_

**Four and a half.**

_What?_

**Your watch started at eight-thirty. You're due to wake your dad in two hours and eight minutes, at twelve-thirty. If you get up at five, that's only four and a half hours sleep.**

_Really? Guess you're right. Oh, well, it's still better than nothing._

**You go right to sleep, now. I'll sing you a lullaby if you want.**

_No, thanks, Freak. I think I'll be fine._

**You sure? I know some great ones!**

_No, that's okay. I think I can get to sleep on my own. That is, if the creepy howling thing is really gone._

**You had to go and mention the creepy howling thing! Darn, darn, darn!**

One thing that never failed to amuse Dexter was Freakazoid's complete inability to swear. Even simple words like "damn" and "hell" were seemingly beyond his language capabilities. It was as if he had a filter, set to "Kindergarten" level, that prevented him from saying anything worse than "doody" or "nutbunnies." It was really funny when he'd try to swear and come up with only nonsense syllables.

_Don't worry, I'm sure it's long gone by now. We'll be fine._ He poked the fire with his marshmallow stick and stretched his legs out in front of him.

**Don't go to sleep yet, Dex.**

_I'm not._

**You're awfully close to it.**

_No, I'm not! Okay, maybe I'm a little sleepy, but I'm not falling asleep!_

**Good! Hey, I like this one! What's it called again?**

_Barenaked Ladies._

**But . . . those are men singing.**

_I know. It's just a clever name._

**Why would they call themselves ladies if they're not ladies?**

_I don't know, Freak. _

**I can go look it up for you, if you want.**

_Don't strain yourself._

**Scuse me for a minute while I go find a search engine!**

_Or you could just use the library._

**We have one of those?**

_You know those stairs you found at the back of the Freakazone?_

**Yeah?**

_Well, where did you __**think**__ they went?_

There was a stunned pause. **See, Dex? You do the thinking for both of us! I'll take the stairs, then. To the library!**

_Have fun._

**I'll be back soon!**

_I know you will. I'll be here. _

To try and keep himself awake, Dexter turned the volume up, and hummed along. He didn't sing, for fear of waking the sleepers in the tent (or of attracting something that wasn't sleeping), but humming was good enough.

He wondered what time it was, but didn't dare check his watch. If he did, he might find that not nearly as much time as he thought had passed, and then he'd be depressed.

**I'm baaaaaaack!**

_Wow, Freak, you were hardly gone any time at all! Did you find what you were looking for?_

**Yep!** There was the sound of flipping pages. **Did you know there's a whole encyclopedia down there?**

_Really?_

**Yeah! And according to this, they got their name from a Victoria's Secret catalog. Someone's mother made a comment about "all those bare naked ladies", and I guess they thought it would be a cool band name. **

_Now, I heard they came up with it to get attention on their posters. I thought they said on the radio that the band put "Barenaked Ladies" on their concert posters to catch people's interest._

**Are you saying the encyclopedia is WRONG?**

_No. I don't know. Maybe they're both right. Maybe no one's right, and they picked the name cause they were drunk at the time. Who cares? It's good music._

**Yeah, it is.**

_You can hear it, in the Freakazone?_

**Course I can hear it! I don't have to, all the time, but if I want to, it comes in loud and clear! Sometimes I turn the volume down, but I think for this, I'll keep it on. That okay with you?**

_Like I could tell you what to do?_

**See, that's your problem, Dex! You're not assertive enough! You need to learn to stand up to people instead of letting them push you around!**

_I can't do that! They'll get mad at me!_

**Listen to me. You can't live your life in fear of what other people think of you. Know why?**

Dexter sighed. _Why?_

**Cause you can't control other people's thoughts and opinions. You have to accept that some people aren't gonna like you. So what? That's their problem! I know you're a great guy. You know you're a great guy. That's all that matters!**

It did make sense, when Dexter thought about it. _Thanks, Freak._

**Hey, any time, buddy! That's what I 'm here for.**

* * *

Barenaked Ladies gave way to the Dave Matthews Band, and Dexter relaxed, almost (but not quite) enough to fall asleep. Every time he felt on the verge of dropping off, he felt the mental equivalent of a sharp stick poking him in the small of the back.

**Hang in there, Dex! Still twenty-seven minutes and forty-nine seconds to go!**

_I'm awake! I'm awake!_

**Sure, now you are.**

_I can make it! I wonder if Dad will let me use his sleeping bag? _

**You can ask him. In twenty-six minutes and twelve seconds.**

_You don't need to do that, you know._

**Do what?**

_Count it off precisely to the second. Just let me know when it's time._

**But then what will we talk about?**

_Whatever you want. Like . . . where were you, before the Pinnacle Chip fused us together?_

**Everywhere. And nowhere. Sort of. It's hard to explain.**

_Were you in the Internet?_

**I was the Internet! In a way.**

_Really? How?_

**I told you, it's hard to explain. Can we talk about something else?**

_I don't know what else to talk about. So . . . why __**me**__? There must have been millions of those chips out there. Was it just that I was the first one to stumble on the code, or what?_

**Huh? I wasn't listening.**

_Freakazoid! This is important stuff here!_

**Don't move.**

_What?_ He started to get up and look around, but Freakazoid exerted gentle pressure to hold him down.

**I said DON'T move! There's something moving in the woods about ten yards that way.**

_What?_

**Don't look! You don't want to attract its attention! **

_But how'm I supposed to know what it is unless I look?_

**You don't wanna find out the hard way, do you?**

_Um, no._

**Just stay still till it's gone. You put the rest of the food up a tree, right?**

_Aw, no!_ He started to get up again, and this time Freakazoid held him down a bit more firmly.

**Wait till it's gone, in case it is a bear!**

_But the food! I can still save—_

**Save yourself first! You can go into town and get more food. But if anything happens to you . . .**

_I get the picture. Okay, I'll stay here._

It was agonizing, to have to hold still while something that may or may not have been a bear stalked through the campsite, lured by the smell of the food that Dexter had forgotten to put away properly.

He just hoped it didn't think that **he** smelled like food.

Finally, when he thought he couldn't take another minute of sitting and doing nothing, he heard the bear moving away, off toward what Dexter thought was the east, and he waited until he could no longer hear the rustlings and cracking branches before getting up and checking the campsite.

The tent was intact, fortunately. The same could not be said for the cooler. It had been overturned and deeply scratched on one side, as the bear rooted inside for the food. But at least it wasn't cracked or broken.

The food, of course, was gone. All of it. The bear had even eaten the plastic hot dog wrappers. Dexter felt guilty for having lost them all their food, but at least everyone was okay.

**Better wake your dad up. It's his watch now.**

_I'll have to tell him about the bear, won't I?_

**It might not have been a bear. I mean, I didn't actually SEE it. It might have been a raccoon.**

_I don't care what it was, as long as it doesn't come back._

With that, he stuck his head into the tent. His dad was on the right side, so he leaned down and whispered, "Dad? Dad, wake up."

"Hnh? No, no barbecue sauce on that."

**Must be some dream he's having.**

_Shush!_ Louder, he said, "Dad! You've gotta get up now! Our food's gone!"

"What?" Dad sat up, and his head met the fabric roof of the tent. "Dexter, what time is it?"

"Twelve forty-one," he reported, reading it off his watch, although Freakazoid could have told him the exact time, down to the second.

"What's this about the food being gone?"

"Something moved through the camp and ate all our food. I . . . kinda forgot to put it up in a tree."

Dad scrambled out of the sleeping bag, nearly bringing the tent down in the process, and crawled out onto open ground. "What was it? Did you see it? Was it just the food, or did it go after our backpacks, too?"

"Just the food. The cooler's pretty much toast, but the other stuff is okay. Whatever it was, I think it was just hungry. It's gone now."

"Was it a bear?"

"I don't know, I didn't see it! I just heard it moving around."

"Well, did it leave tracks?"

"I didn't look!"

"Jumping jetpacks, Dexter, a woodsman's got to keep his wits about him! You stay here; I'll go and have a look around. Here, hold this." He thrust one of the fishing rods into Dexter's hands.

"You want me to lure him away with this?"

"If it comes back, I want you to hit it over the head with that! That'll do till I can find a good stout branch to use instead. Now don't leave the tent till I get back."

Dexter crawled inside, squatting beside his father's sleeping bag. He could hear Duncan's deep, rhythmic breathing, and further away, footsteps as Dad inspected the remains of the cooler and looked for tracks. He wanted to crawl into the sleeping bag and sack out, but he had to wait till Dad came back with news, good or bad.

**Maybe it was a wolverine. **

_It wasn't a wolverine! They don't live in this part of the country!_

**Wolverines live where they want. They're vicious, you know, with the claws, and the teeth, and—**

_Freak! Not. Helping!_

**Whaaaaat?**

Fortunately, at that moment, Dad came back. "Well, it wasn't a bear. The tracks are too small. Probably a raccoon."

**Or a wolverine!**

_It__** wasn't **__a wolverine__**!**_

**How do you know?**

_Fine, I'll ask! _"Could it maybe have been . . . a wolverine?"

Dad chuckled. "Don't be silly, Dex! You know they don't live in this part of the country!"

_Told you._

**Aw, nutbunnies!**

"You can go ahead and sleep now," Dad was saying. "I'll wake you at five to go fishing. We'll need all we can catch, to feed us through the weekend."

"I thought maybe we'd go back to town and pick up some more food."

"What's the point of roughing it if we keep running out to the store? We might as well be in a hotel!"

"A hotel sounds nice right now."

"You just get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure. Night, Dad."

"Good night, son."

With that, Dexter climbed into the sleeping bag, lay back, and closed his eyes.

And opened them in alarm a second later as a strange noise sounded, not far away.

**Would you relax? It's just an owl!**

_Oh. Okay._

**You want that lullaby now?**

_No, _Dexter said, and then reconsidered. Clearly Freakazoid needed something to do while Dexter was sleeping (or not sleeping, as the case may be). It wasn't as if anyone else would hear him, and unlike the CD player, his batteries would never run down. _Well . . . okay. Sing to me._

**Okay then!**

It was amazing, the songs that Freakazoid knew. He must have gotten them off the Internet, because there was no way that they were stored in Dexter's brain, even in the dark corners where neither of them dared to go. Most of them were sappy love songs from the Seventies, before Dexter was even born. There were a few power ballads from the Eighties as well.

By the time Freakazoid worked his way up to the current decade, Dexter was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Five o'clock came early. Dexter hadn't dreamed—if he had, he didn't remember it (and since the Freaky One had come into his life, his dreams were more bizarrely memorable than ever)—but he did have a sense of having been asleep. He did feel rested, but not nearly enough.

"Come on, boys! Grab a pole and let's get out there! Duncan, wake up, son! The morning won't last all day!"

Duncan was still asleep; sometimes it seemed like he could sleep through anything. Dexter rejected Freakazoid's suggestion to kick him awake, and gave him a gentle nudge instead.

It took several nudges to wake the sleeping giant. "Huh? What? Get off me, Twink!"

"Dad says it's time to get up and go fishing."

"Oh! Why'nt you say so?" He jumped up, and Dexter was treated to the lovely sight of Duncan in his Bart Simpson boxer shorts. And nothing else.

"Get dressed," he said, averting his eyes.

By the time Duncan was ready, Dad had already baited their hooks for them, and set their poles on the bank, ready and waiting.

"Do you remember," Dad began, launching into the familiar story, "the first time I took you boys fishing? You must have been about . . . six and four, I think. Dexter, you asked me, 'Doesn't it hurt the worm to put him on the hook like that?' And I said—"

Both boys finished the sentence for him. "Not as much as it's gonna hurt him to get eaten by a fish!"

"Dad," Dexter complained, "you tell this story every summer! You might want to get some new material!"

"There's nothing like the classics, son. Now cast off and let's see if they're biting."

This was the part that Dexter hated most. In their years of coming here, he had hooked 1) a tree, 2) a squirrel, and 3) Dad's lucky hat (which was never seen again). He closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

The hook landed in the dirt, a few yards away from the water. He reeled it in and tried again. This time it at least went into the water, though not very far out.

And then the waiting began.

The thing that Dexter both liked and hated about fishing was that most of it involved sitting quietly and waiting for a fish to bite. While he enjoyed the quiet, after a while the waiting got tiresome. It was then that he realized that he hadn't heard a peep from Freakazoid in quite a while.

_You there, Freak?_

**Yeah, I'm just being quiet so I won't distract you.**

_Well, I'm just sitting here right now. If you want to talk, that's okay._

**Well, all right! So . . . what do we do after we're done fishing?**

_Clean the fish and eat them for breakfast._

**EEEUUUUCHHHH! TOUCH FISH GUTS? BLEAHHHHH!**

_That's what I say, but Dad says if we don't clean it, we can't eat it. So I'm stuck touching fish guts._

**What do you DO with them?**

_Throw them in the woods for the bears to eat instead of us. I think. Sometimes we throw them in the water, but that's kinda gross._

**Ya THINK?**

_I'll give you plenty of warning, so you can turn off the video feed till it's all over._

**You'd let me do that?**

_Why put you through something gross if you don't have to? Just keep your ears open for the all-clear._

**Will do! Is that your bobby thing bobbing up and down?**

_It is? It is! I've got one!_

"I've got one!"

"Well, reel it in!" Dad stood up and grabbed Dexter's rod before it went sailing off into the lake. Together they managed to reel in a fairly good-sized fish.

"Oh, he's a good one! Throw it in the bucket and go back for more!"

"Bucket?"

"Since we don't have the cooler, I had to improvise." Dad held up a bright red fire bucket. "It's deep enough so he shouldn't flop out of it. And it's clean."

"How do I get it off the hook?"

"Gimme that!" Duncan grabbed the fish out of his hands, slid it off the hook, and tossed it into the bucket. "You're such a wimp, Dex!"

"I am not!"

"Quiet down, boys! You'll scare the fish away."

"Sorry, Dad." The two of them squelched the argument before it got going, and Duncan even helped Dexter bait his hook again.

When he looked back, Dexter couldn't remember a lot of good times with his family. Mostly he hid out from them in his room. Going out in public with them was a nightmare. But these fishing trips were different. Maybe because they didn't have to talk to each other.

Duncan caught the next fish, which was bigger than Dexter's. He peered into the bucket, where the first fish was still flopping around. "If I put him in there," he asked, "will they fight each other?"

"I doubt it," said Dexter. "It's a little hard to fight when you can't breathe."

For that, he received a punch in the arm. But not too hard, because Dad was watching.

**Hit him back!**

_I'm not gonna hit him back!_

**Why not? You've gotta stand up to that bully sometime in your life, Dex! **

_Maybe later, okay? After we're done fishing._

**When will that be?**

_I don't know! When we've caught enough to eat, I guess._

The sun was over the tops of the trees before they had enough to call breakfast. Good thing, too; it was getting hot out here. Dexter looked out at the cool, clear water and longed to take a dip, just to cool off a bit.

"Okay, boys," said Dad. "Time to clean the fish. Though they've been in the water—"

"So they shouldn't be dirty," Duncan and Dexter chorused. This was another oft-repeated joke that wasn't that funny anymore.

"Oh, you've heard that one."

"Only every time we go fishing," Dexter muttered.

"Let's bring the fish back to the campsite first, so we can put them right over the fire. We'll throw the waste into the bucket and dump it as far from us as possible."

_Guess who gets that job? _Dexter thought sourly. He then groped for the mental link between himself and Freakazoid. _Fish-cleaning time, Freak. You might want to go watch _Rat Patrol _for a while. It's gonna be really disgusting!_

**Try not to hurl in the bucket this time.**

_I won't—wait, you know about that?_

**That library holds ALL your memories. Good and bad. Sorry to bring it up.**

_That only happened once! I'll be fine!_

**I hope so. Well, see ya in a while! **

There was an audible click as the link was temporarily disconnected. Dexter sighed, picked up the small knife that Dad used for cleaning the fish, and got to it.

It was nearly lunchtime before they had the fish all cleaned, and Dexter was starving. As he had expected, he was carrying the bucket of fish guts out into the woods. He sighed, got up, and started to leave the dock area.

And that was when Duncan's arm swung around and knocked him, pail and all, into the lake.

He wasn't worried about drowning; he could swim just fine. When he came up, sputtering and choking on water, Dad and Duncan had already left the waterside. They hadn't even noticed that he wasn't with them.

**Why's it so damp in here? Where's all this water coming fro—DEXTER! Are you okay? What happened?**

Dexter hauled himself up onto dry land and shook himself like a dog. _Oh, nothing. It was an accident._

**What was an accident?**

_Duncan kinda . . . pushed me into the water._

**WHAT? That big jerk! Why, I oughta—**

_Freak, no! Let me handle it!_

**No! We've done things your way for long enough! You're not wimping out on me this time! That guy needs to be taught a lesson! I don't care if he is your brother, you need to stand up for yourself!**

_Okay. I'll tell Dad when I get back to the campsite._

**And what do you think he's gonna do about it?**

_I don't know . . ._

**I'll tell you what. NOTHING! Same as he ever does! You've got to handle this yourself, Dexter Donald Douglas! Be a man!**

_Okay! I will!_

He squelched up the path to the campsite and found Duncan spearing the fish parts with sticks. "Dunc, can I talk to you a minute?"

**No! Firmer than that!**

_Freak, let me do this, please._

"Have a nice swim, dork?"

"Why'd you push me?"

"What?" Duncan looked all innocent. "I didn't push you!"

"So you just accidentally happened to knock me off the dock, then?"

"Yeah!"

**HE'S LYING!**

_I know he's lying, but I can't tell him right out that he's lying!_ "Duncan, you know that's about as believable as—as saying that a mermaid pulled me in!"

"A mermaid? A real mermaid? With a seashell bra and everything?"

Dexter gave him a look. "No, not a real mermaid! Mermaids aren't real!"

"But you said—"

"What's going on, boys?" Dad had heard raised voices and came over to do something about it.

"Duncan pushed me into the lake!"

"I did not! It was an accident! I didn't see him there!"

"You're not denying you did it!"

"Okay, that's enough!" He physically separated the two of them so that no violence, accidental or otherwise, could occur. "Dexter, do you **know **for sure that Duncan meant to push you?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then maybe it **was** an accident."

"But he's always punching me and shoving me around! You weren't even watching! You don't know for sure that it **wasn't **on purpose!"

"That's enough, Dex! You apologize to your brother for unjustly accusing him."

"What?"

**WHAT?**

"You heard me. You've got one minute, or I'll put you in time out!"

"Dad, I'm seventeen! Don't you think I'm a little old for time outs?"

"I'm serious. Apologize, or go sit in the car for an hour."

"An hour? Do I at least get the keys so I can have the air conditioning on?"

"Dexter!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry I accused you without absolute proof, Duncan."

"You really think I'd push you on purpose?"

"Well—" he began, but then saw Dad looking at him. "No."

"All right," said Dad. "Now shake hands, and let's all be friends again."

**Don't do it, Dexter! It's a trick!**

_I don't have a choice, do I? Unless I want to go sit in the hot car for an hour._

Duncan's grip was firm, but fortunately not crushing. At least Dexter came out of it without feeling that all the bones in his hand had been pulverized. It was only because Dad was watching; otherwise, it would have been business as usual.

"Now let's go for a swim!"

_Great. Shoulda stayed in the water._

**Oh, don't be so negative, Dex! You'll get him back! Hold his head under the water for a minute or so!**

_I can't! I mean, I literally can't! He's bigger than me!_

**Then let me do it! **

_I prefer to bide my time, and wait for the right moment._

**Right moment? How do you know there IS a right moment? What if the right moment never comes? What do you do then?**

_Well . . . he's older than me. With any luck, he'll die first._

Dexter, ever self-conscious about his scrawny body, ducked into the tent to change into his swimsuit. "Stupid Duncan," he muttered as he yanked his T-shirt off over his head. "Why do they always take his side?"

**Aw, don't be upset, Dex!**

_Why shouldn't I? Your stupid plan failed miserably!_

**Hey, so we lost the battle. So what? The war is far from over!**

_No, but it's not looking good for our side. They always choose him over me! What's fair about that?_

"Dexter!" Dad called. "You coming, or was one dip in the lake enough?"

"Ha, ha," Dexter muttered. "Yeah, I'm coming!" he shouted, tugged his swim trunks into place, and crawled out of the tent.

The water was much nicer when he chose to enter it, rather than being taken by surprise. It was cool, but not freezing cold. It felt really nice on such a hot day.

**You watch out for alligators, now!**

**_Alligators? _**_There are no alligators in Lake Wachewanna!_

**HA! Gotcha! Seriously, though, there might be a few snapping turtles around.**

_Are there?_

**Just be careful, Dex. You're important to me, you know.**

_Thanks, Freak._

Dexter swam out about ten yards, and then changed direction to swim parallel to the shore, back and forth across the water, barely making a splash as he did so. He tried to stay away from the boats that zipped along the water a little further out, but they were so fast that he was afraid they'd run him over. After the third one went zooming by barely a foot from his face, he swam in a bit so that he wouldn't be in their way.

**Not in their way? They should stay out of YOUR way!**

_You try telling them that!_

**Let me out and I will!**

_I'll bet you will. _

**You haven't let me have any fun all weekend! What's up with that? **

_Freak, we talked about this! We don't want to blow our cover! My family can't know the truth!_

**THEY CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!**

_Nice. I like it when you do impressions._

**Who should I do next?**

_How about Marcel Marceau?_

**But he's a-oh, I get it. Lip-zipping time.**

_Please. Oh, here comes another boat. I think this one's aiming for me!_

**This looks like a job for . . . well, are you gonna let me out, or not?**

_I guess so. _"Oh . . . FREAK OUT!"

Dexter's small body spun around wildly, and even though there was a clear blue sky above, lightning flashed as he transformed. Freakazoid, when he appeared, was wearing a Harbor Patrol uniform, complete with whistle, which he blew several times.

"You! In the water!" He pointed to the offending speedboat. "Pull over, now!"

The driver of the boat complied. Freakazoid splashed over in the shallow water and glared at the four teenagers who were looking up at him. They looked like college kids, on summer break.

"Going a little fast, weren't you? And close to the swimmers!" He pulled out a ticket book and began doodling.

"We're sorry, Officer," said the boy next to the driver. He was built like a moose, but he seemed nice enough. "We'll try to stay further out from now on."

"You're not drinking, are you?" Freakazoid inspected the interior of the boat for open containers. "What's that there?"

The girl holding a clear plastic bottle of golden liquid looked at it as if she'd never seen it before. "This? It's Mountain Dew."

"Really?"

"Yes, sir."

"Could I have some?" Freakazoid asked eagerly.

_What are you doing?_ Dexter demanded.

**It's a little warm out here, in case you haven't noticed! I could use some refreshment!**

_Okay, then. Let them go._

Freakazoid accepted the offered bottle and said, "Now behave yourselves, kids! And watch out for the pirhanas!"

"Pirhanas?" the boy behind the driver quavered.

"He's kidding," said the moose. "Pirhanas don't live in waters this cold."

They sped off, more carefully this time, and Freakazoid waved until they were out of sight. "Bu-bye, kids! Have fun! But not too much fun!"

_Well done, Freak._

**Thanks! What can we do now?**

_Can we just go back to camp?_

**Now? But I'm just getting started! Hey, there's Duncan! Watch this!**

_Freak, no!_

**You never let me have any fun! I promise I won't do anything to permanently maim him.**

_O . . .kay. I think._

Duncan was climbing up on the dock, in preparation for the mother of all cannonballs. He looked out over the water, and spotted his worst nightmare.

"Help!" he cried, scrambling up the ladder. "It's the blue guy! Dad! Help!"

"It's like this, Dumb-can," Freakazoid said. "You need to treat your brother nicer. Or else I'ma have to get rough with you!"

"No! Please!" Duncan started to run, but the dock was wet and slippery. Freakazoid stuck out an arm as Duncan went past, knocking him into the water.

_HA! Revenge is sweet!_

"Oops!" he said, mockingly. "Sorry bout that! It was an accident!"

Duncan, bobbing in and out of the water, began to cry. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't do it no more! Tell Dexter I'm sorry!"

_He doesn't mean it. The moment you're gone, it'll all start again._

**I think I can take care of that.**

"And just in case you were thinking about going after him again when I leave . . . know this: I see everything, I know everything. I will know if you're mean to your brother, and I'll come back!"

"I won't! I won't! I promise!"

_Where the heck is Dad?_ Dexter wondered. _Wasn't he just here?_

**Probably in the bushes.**

_Maybe we should go, before he gets back._

**Good idea.**

"I'm going now!" he announced. "But remember what I said: be nice to Dexter, or I'll be back!"

And he zoomed off, down the dock and into the woods.

_Boy, that felt good!_

**See? I told you! You just need to stand up to him once in a while! I did it for you this time, but next time, you gotta step up and defend yourself!**

_Yeah, like he'd listen to me._

**Well, MAKE him listen to you! Next time he hits you, hit him back!**

_I don't think I can . . ._

**Of course you can! I'm with you, always! We are part of each other, and you've got to tap that part of you that is me . . . I mean, part of me in you . . . what was I saying?**

_I don't know, but Freak? Where are we?_

Freakazoid looked up and saw nothing but trees all around them. **What? We should be near the campsite! Don't worry, it should be around here somewhere!**

_You don't know where?_

**No, but I think I have a pretty good idea!**

He blundered around for a while before being forced to give up and admit that yes, they were lost.

_It's too bad you can't fly. You could get an aerial view of the whole forest._

**Yeah, well . . . HEY! I just thought of something! I DO know someone who can help us!**

_Really?_

**Yeah! Now where did I put that horn?**

Freakazoid reached into his pockets, which were conveniently only there when he needed them, and pulled out a yo-yo, a paddle ball, a length of rope attached to a rhinoceros (**How the heck did that get in there?**), a handful of jacks (**so that's where that pain in my lower back came from!**), and various other odds and ends. They formed a tall pile on the ground in front of him.

**Where is it, WHERE IS IT?! Oh, wait a minute! Here it is!**

Freakazoid held up a golden curly horn with FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY written along the side. He took a deep breath, and blew into the horn.

At first, only dust emerged. He tried again, and this time a fanfare sounded, loud enough to be heard throughout the whole forest.

_Now what?_ Dexter asked.

**Now we just have to wait for him! I hope he's not busy. What am I talking about? He's never busy!**

_Who?_

**The Huntsman, of course! He lives in the forest! Here he comes now!**

There was a huge rushing sound, like a mighty wind tearing through the trees. Freakazoid could see a green streak approaching: Huntsman, at full speed, was nearly as fast as Freakazoid himself. Not that they'd ever raced or anything. **Actually, that might be a fun thing to do. For charity, maybe. Who do we call to set that-**

_Freak, focus!_

The green streak slowed, and came to a stop a few feet away. "You called, Freakazoid?"

"Yeah, hi, Huntsman. I'm . . . kinda lost."

"Lost? How did that happen? Didn't you mark your trail so you could find your way back?"

"I guess I got distracted. Sorry."

"Where were you before you got lost?"

"Our campsite's about ten yards from the lake. I thought it was that way, but someone disagrees!"

_Don't blame this all on me! You're the one who wasn't paying attention to where we were going!_

**Why, I oughta-**

"Did you step off the path?" Huntsman asked, interrupting the inner conversation.

"Huh? Oh, uh, I guess I did."

"Can you remember where you went off the path?"

"I think it was back that way." He pointed straight back behind him.

"All right. I know exactly where we are. If it's the campsite I think it is, it's back this way." He led Freakazoid off in a slight diagonal, to the east.

They reconnected with the path shortly, and followed it home.

"Gee, thanks, Huntsman," Freakazoid said. "If you ever need anything, call me. Here, use the Freakazoo." He handed the green-clad figure a red and blue object.

"Um, thanks, Freakazoid." Huntsman tucked the Freakazoo into one of the many pockets in his tunic. "Don't forget to mark your trail, and stay on the path!"

"Sure will! Bye now!"

_At least he was nice. So, what do we do now?_

**Let's just sit for a moment. I'm tired after all that walking.**

_And panicking._

**I did not panic! I knew exactly what to do.**

_Sure, you didn't. Whatever you say, Freak._

**Let's go pick some berries! I'll show you which ones are safe, and which aren't. Don't get them confused.**

_You know, it __**is**__ kinda nice out here._

**That's what I've been telling you! Admit it, Dex: you've been having a good time out here after all.**

_Well . . . yeah._

**I mean, if we don't count the bear.**

_I thought it wasn't a bear!_

**Whatever it was! And the boat that got a little too close-shouldn't have any problems with them anymore. **

_Okay, I get it-_

**And the strange noises in the middle of the night, that could be a mile away, or could be right next to-WHAT AM I DOING OUT HERE IN THE WOODS! IT'S CREEPY AND SCARY AND I WANNA GO HOME!**

_Take it easy, Freak! Everything's fine!_

And then that uncanny howl sounded-only it was close by.

**Fine? That's not fine! The evil wolf creature has found us! We're all gonna die!**

There was a rustling in the brush. "Freak in!" Freakazoid, said, leaving Dexter to be the ritual sacrifice.

_Oh, thanks, Freak._

It came closer . . . closer . . . and then it burst out of the bushes in front of him. Dexter knelt on the ground and curled up in a ball, his arms over his face.

He heard sniffing, and then felt something on his arm. It was . . . licking him?

He opened his eyes and looked down. A tiny brown ball of fur was eagerly licking his arm. It yapped when it saw him.

"Buster? Buster, where are you?" Suddenly a girl about Dexter's age emerged from the bushes. "Oh! I'm so sorry. I've had him on a leash all weekend, but he just got away from me all of a sudden."

"Buster?" Dexter looked down at the dog. "This is your dog?"

"I'm sorry if he was any trouble. He broke into someone else's camp last night and brought home a whole bunch of food."

"That was **our** food! You mean . . . it wasn't a bear?"

She giggled. "No, just Buster. Oh, I'm Kathleen Warner. My sister, my mom and I are camping about half a mile away. We usually don't bother other folks up here, but I guess Buster had other ideas."

"Oh. Well . . . Dad wanted us to live off the land, anyway, so it's all good."

"Sure." She stared at him, expectantly.

**I think this is the part where you TELL HER YOUR NAME!**

_Okay, okay! _"Um . . . I'm Dexter Douglas. I'm here with my dad and my brother. Last time I saw them, they were down by the lake."

"Here you are, Dexter! See, Dad, I toldja he wasn't lost!" Duncan blundered out of the brush like an angry bear. "Hey, cute dog!"

"Sorry if he's been a lot of trouble," Kathleen said. "He likes to howl at the moon when we're up here."

"So that's what that was. Dexter thought it was a wolf!" Duncan laughed as if it was all a big joke.

"Want to come up to our campsite and hang out? I brought my Game Boy."

"You play video games?" Dexter was amazed at this. "I've never met a girl who liked to play video games!"

"Oh, yeah! I'm Vice-President of my school's computer club, too!"

"Really?"

"Hey, Katie! Who're you talking to? Bigfoot?"

A tall, well-built young woman approached them. Her tiny shorts and midriff top left very little to the imagination. Duncan saw her and was mesmerized. Dexter could almost see the little hearts in his eyes.

"Well, hel-lo there!" He sidled up to her and flexed his biceps. Dexter just sighed.

"I'm gonna go tell Dad where we're going, okay?"

No response from the lovesick lug.

"Okay, then! Be right back!"

He started down the trail towards the lake, but then remembered to mark his trail. But with what?

**What's in your pockets?**

_My pockets? I don't have any-wait a minute! _There was a folded piece of paper in the bottom corner, and when he pulled it out to look at it, it was bright blue.

**There! That should be visible enough! C'mon, let's go!**

_A girl who plays video games. Imagine that. And she's in the Computer Club!_

**She's VICE PRESIDENT of the Computer Club! She must be really good with computers!**

_Yeah, probably._

**She's not prettier than Steff, though.**

_Yeah, but Steff's not here. And it's not like she'll ever find out!_

**Ah, summer flings! Aren't they sweet?**

* * *

That evening, after the sun went down, Dexter sat next to Kathleen at her family's campfire. They took turns playing with her Game Boy.

Duncan and Kathleen's sister, whose name was Josie, were sitting on the other side of the fire, whispering and giggling with each other.

**Don't think I've ever seen the big guy so . . . schmoopy.**

_So __**what**__? Is that even a word?_

**Sure it is! It means all mushy and stuff!** **Didn't think he had it in him.**

_At least now, hopefully, he'll leave me alone._

**Oh, he BETTER! **

"You're awfully quiet, Dexter," Kathleen said. "What are you thinking about?"

"Huh? Oh, um, I was just thinking how nice it is to be here . . . I mean . . ."

"I know. It's always nice to have friends. We're here till Sunday night; you?"

"I think so, yeah. I wonder if Dad's coming to join us?"

"He's welcome if he does," said Kathleen's mother, who looked just like her-same dark hair, same bright green eyes, same petite bone structure . . .

**Wipe the drool off your chin, Dex!**

_I'm not drooling!_

**You're getting all schmoopy, too! What am I gonna do with you?**

_I can take care of myself, Freak._

"So here you boys are!" Dad finally made an appearance at the edge of the clearing.

"I told you where we were going!" Dexter said, shaking his head. "Didn't you read the note?"

"Of course I did, but-" Dad broke off suddenly, staring at Kathleen's mother. "Suffering swamp gas! Jamie Malone, is that you?"

"I don't believe it! Doug-Doug! So nice, they named you twice!" She came over and gave him a big hug.

"Um," Dexter interrupted, "is there something we should know about?"

"Boys, this is my best friend from camp thirty years ago! Hardly seems like a day's gone by, does it?"

"Well, I can't say you look the same," she said, "but you look good. Come sit down. There's coffee if you want it."

"That'd be nice, thanks."

"Dad," Dexter said, "I know you've told us stories of your friend Jamie at camp, but . . . I kinda got the impression that Jamie was a boy. Was I totally wrong, or did you fib just a little?"

Dad laughed. "I might have left out a few pertinent details. We were ten years old! We didn't care about that stuff back then!"

"We used to compete to see who could catch the most frogs," Jamie reminisced. "I always made you let them go."

"Except for that one time! You waited until we were back in the dining hall, and **then **you set them free!"

"And we had a whole bunch of them, didn't we? Frogs ran everywhere! People were jumping up on tables and screaming! It took the head counselor and almost all the junior counselors to finally round them up and restore order, and by then we were long gone. We hid out behind the boat house until everything had calmed down."

"Wow," Dexter said. "**My **dad did that?"

Duncan looked up suddenly. "Dad did what?"

"Set a bunch of frogs loose at camp."

"No way!"

"Oh, little Dougie was quite a troublemaker!" said Jamie. "I thought they were going to send us home after the frog incident. And the food fights. And the lake monster prank . . ."

"Er, it was a long time ago," Dad said sheepishly. "I was bored, and I didn't want to be there, and I guess I got . . . creative."

"You're not kidding! The thing with the sheets and the tapioca pudding, that was pure genius!"

"Okay, this I gotta hear." Dexter leaned in closer, to hear all the juicy details.

**Who knew your dad was such a wild child?**

_I guess everyone's got a secret past. You know, Freak . . . I think I like camping after all._

**That's my boy!**


End file.
